Strawberry Lollipops
by quitesirius
Summary: We all know Spike loves Buffy- but does he love her enough to quit smoking?
1. Chapter 1: The day you quit smoking

Strawberry Lollipops  
  
A/N: Hey there! This is my first fic in the Buffyverse, and is loosely based on a fic I read about Spike becoming human- and attempting to quit smoking. He won't be turning human in this story, but I just couldn't stop thinking, "Does Spike love Buffy enough to kick the habit?"  
  
Set sometime in the 5th season after Spike spills his feelings.  
  
This is meant to be somewhat humorous, so I hope it gives you a laugh or two.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or anything related to it. Those marvelous being belong to good ol' Joss Whedon, that mastermind.  
  
~*~  
  
Spike sat atop the Freedman mausoleum, looking over the graveyard with icy blue eyes. He held a cigarette between the middle and index fingers of his right hand, tapping it lightly against the edge of the stone wall he was sitting on, letting the ashes fall onto the growing pile below. He adjusted his duster and raised the cigarette to his lips again.  
  
The graveyard was fairly quiet that evening. He'd only killed one vampire so far, and there wasn't any sign of more- or the Slayer. He blew smoke out through his nose as he thought about this, quietly humming "Blitzkrieg Bop" by the Ramones.  
  
And then she was there. It was odd, really, how she thought she could just sneak up on him like that. He could sense her standing about ten feet behind him, slowly closing in, more than likely she hoped to tap him on the shoulder and scare him- but he already knew. He let her advance; nearly touch him on the shoulder-  
  
"About bloody time you got here, goldilocks."  
  
It was Buffy who jumped, clutching at her heart for a second. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, trying to be casual about her prior scare.  
  
"You ought to know you can't scare me by now." Spike said, getting up. "But nobody ever accused you of learning fast, now did they?"  
  
She ignored his question. "Killed anything tonight?"  
  
"One vamp. Nothing more. Nothing less. Unfortunately." He tapped the side of his head to indicate the chip lying in the recesses of his brain.  
  
"You just refuse to get over that, don't you?"  
  
He blew a cloud of smoke in her face, causing her to close her eyes and cough quietly. She lifted her hand and waved it away. He laughed.  
  
"I don't get over things like that easily. What's the matter? Did I give you lung cancer?" Spike inquired as she coughed lightly.  
  
"That's a disgusting habit."  
  
He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, it is!" she insisted. "There's another reason I can't love you- you smoke! You taste like an ashtray! Your breath smells all funky-"  
  
"Oh, you've been tasting, have you?" He paused, realizing her second comment. "My breath smells alright! I eat those little mint things all the time!"  
  
"So you say."  
  
He glowered at her, then shook his head. "Poor little lost girl- can't even find decent reasons to deny her love for me."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked, taking a single step back. "I have tons of very good reasons."  
  
"So you say." He mimicked. "Spike, I can't love you because your hair is too blond, you wear too much black, you used to be a murderer, you smoke-"  
  
"Those last two are great reasons!"  
  
He sighed and scratched at his nose. "Sure they are."  
  
"I don't have to say anything to you." She retorted, turning to leave.  
  
"I just don't see why you can't love me when I love you so much." Spike said to her retreating back, not expecting Buffy to hear him.  
  
"Spike, the day you quit smoking is the day I'll love you." She said sarcastically, knowing that the vampire was so addicted to cigarettes that he would never give it up- even for her.  
  
~*~  
  
"The day you quit smoking is the day I'll love you." Spike mimicked Buffy's voice as he entered his crypt.  
  
He tossed his duster onto the coffin and turned the TV on, hoping for a murder movie marathon or "Passions". Finding neither, he shouted angrily and began to search his pockets for his cigarettes. Not finding them, he looked over at his coat, seeing the top of the white carton sticking out of his right pocket.  
  
He went over and tugged them free of his pocket. He lifted one to his lips and pulled his lighter out of the same pocket the cigarettes had been in. After clicking the flame on, a slow look of realization passed over his sharp features.  
  
Spike flipped his wrist and closed the lighter. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and a wicked grin fell over his lips. He'd show her.  
  
He'd show her how wrong she was. He'd prove he loved her. He'd quit.  
  
"The day you quit smoking..." he repeated, "is the day I'll love you. Get ready to love me, Slayer."  
  
~*~  
  
Quitting smoking couldn't possibly be that hard. After all, they always had those commercials on with all those blokes raving about how "The Miracle Patch" or "The Miracle Gum" had helped them quit. And in all of Spike's years, he'd heard hundreds of tales of ways to quit and how successful it had all turned out for the ex-smokers in question.  
  
Now he pondered just which method he'd use. (Probably something miraculous, he thought with a snort.)  
  
Spike didn't particularly fancy wearing patches and looking like a victim of a mosquito fleet or a child who'd fallen off his bike and onto the pavement. Gum could prove annoying after awhile- and it certainly wouldn't help him look big and bad (ah yes, he could see it now, hanging out in the graveyard, all dark, mysterious, and smacking gum. How terrifying). Cold turkey seemed just a little bit too... boring.  
  
As weird as it sounded, even to himself, Spike found he was a slightly nervous person. The reason he'd taken up smoking in the first place was to help his bad-guy persona to be even badder, but over time, he had continued only because it calmed his nerves. Whenever he was nervous, he needed something to do with his mouth- smoke, chew gum, bite his nails, whatever. Cold turkey provided no comfort.  
  
He'd heard a lot of stories of people eating a lot of candy whenever they got nicotine cravings, but he didn't particularly like the idea of gaining weight by eating candy just so the Slayer would like his breath better. Besides, candy didn't last long, and he wasn't about to stuff his pockets with so much candy that he could barely walk.  
  
So he came to the conclusion that lollipops were the way to go.  
  
Sure, they were candy, but they lasted longer than a Snickers bar and some even had gum in their center as an added bonus. Sure, he had wanted to avoid the gum idea, but that was for more reasons than he'd admitted to himself moments before, because he... well... didn't know how to pop gum.  
  
Embarrassing.  
  
He was almost 130, for crying out loud. He could see the stupid whelp now- "Haha! Bleach Boy can't even pop gum! What a loser!"  
  
That was all he needed.  
  
Then again, he supposed, did anybody really need to know that? Could they prove it? Possibly. But that was only if, by rare circumstance, that they all happened to be hanging around The Magic Box, chewing gum, and having a contest to see who could blow the biggest bubble.  
  
Doubtful.  
  
Besides, Dawn would win that without a doubt. She practically lived on the stuff from age five to age thirteen, when it had suddenly became too childish.  
  
Spike sighed and shook his head in an attempt to rid his thoughts of gum. Reaching into his pocket, he found what he was seeking- two dollars. With one last look at his pack of cigarettes, he grabbed his duster and was out the crypt door, on his way to buy a bag of strawberry lollipops from the store and prove the Slayer wrong. 


	2. Chapter 2: Evil Lysol

A/N: Right. Well. Thought this chapter would be up a bit sooner, but apparently not. You'd think summer would be a time for relaxation and some writing, right? Oh **no**. It has to be about summer credits, golf and guitar lessons that have me traveling all the friggin' time and leaving me too exhausted to get off my hind quarters and write. I'll show those evil inanimate objects what I'm made of. I'll write as often as I can, even if I have to stay up until the wee hours of the morning. I'll try to get chapters out faster than I have, I promise!  
  
Thanks for all the reviews! I was genuinely surprised to receive that many for one chapter!  
  
Go. Read. Review.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 2: "Evil Lysol."  
  
The fluorescent lights of the drugstore made him look dead. Okay, so he was dead, but the lights just flaunted that fact.  
  
Spike squinted his eyes as he stepped into the store, which he thought was overly white and pristine. He blinked a few times and began to move down the aisles, eyes darting over the names printed on all of the small boxes sitting on the shelves. His eyes had finally adjusted by the time he got to the back corner of the store, where the pharmacist sat counting tablets into a bottle.  
  
Spike had to fight his jaw from going slack when he finally came across the anti-smoking area. Before him sat whole shelves of different gums, patches, and various other 'miracle' products. Well. He certainly hadn't been expecting that.  
  
Which, apparently, the pharmacist noticed.  
  
"Can I help you, sir?"  
  
"Uh... Yeah. So what's the best thing to help a guy quit smoking?"  
  
"Different strokes for different folks, sir. What approaches are you willing to take?"  
  
"Beg your pardon?"  
  
"Well," the pharmacist came out from behind the counter and walked over to stand by the vampire's side, "as you can see, there are plenty of different methods. Which ones do you think you'd be most comfortable with?"  
  
Spike crossed his arms momentarily and then scratched the back of his head, looking over the various boxes again. He began to chew on his nails again. The pharmacist stifled a small laugh.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's easy to see this is going to be very hard for you-"  
  
"Is not!" he snapped back, straightening up and dropping his arms to his side. "Listen, pal, all I want is something that'll get me to quit with minimal signs of me quitting. I don't need your snide remarks."  
  
The pharmacist's grin quickly faded. "Well, sir, there are a lot of ways to quit, but I think that maybe you should give each one a try before you decide on what method you'll be using for the next few months."  
  
"Months?"  
  
"Yes. You can't just stop smoking overnight."  
  
"Whatever, gramps. Just... I'll take one box of gum and one box of patches. Oh, and do you happen to carry any suckers?"  
  
The pharmacist raised a brow, not expecting somebody who looked as rough- and-tumble as Spike to request something like that. "Yes. They're up at the front of the store."  
  
"Right. Thanks."  
  
Spike snatched up a box of patches and a box of gum, then swept up the aisles, grabbing several items along his way. Upon reaching the candy section, he grabbed one bag of strawberry lollipops and one bag of Jolly Ranchers. He headed up to the cash register and paid for his items, only hesitating when the cashier gave him a curious look after scanning the lollipops for price.  
  
"Have a good night, sir."  
  
He only nodded, and left the store carrying a plastic bag filled with the weapons he'd chosen for a personal battle he never thought he'd fight. He looked down into the bag and pulled out the strawberry lollipops, eyeing them before turning his eyes to the sky.  
  
"The things I do for women..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike swung open the door to his crypt and stopped directly in the doorway. A wave of air came at him, smelling like cigarette smoke. Whoa. He'd never noticed that before.  
  
Probably because he hadn't craved a cigarette this badly ever since... well, he couldn't think of any time he'd craved one so badly.  
  
But he was prepared. Despite the idiot pharmacist being an idiot, he had revealed several interesting tidbits that Spike had taken into consideration and would now put into action.  
  
Slowly, Spike closed the door and moved over to the coffin, where he sat his burden down. He reached into the plastic bag, not believing what he was about to do. With a snort, he hesitated, then pulled out-  
  
A large can of Mountain Air scented Lysol (Kills 99.9% of Germs in Seconds!).  
  
Donning a disgusted expression, Spike began to spray every corner of his dwelling with the infernal stuff. He eventually figured out to back up while spraying, rather than walking into it and getting droplets in his eyes (because, hey, that hurts like hell). Breathing had become a habit of his lately, which he was finding to be a bad thing, because the scent of the Lysol was very overpowering when sprayed in large quantities.  
  
"Bloody hell." He muttered, trying to wave the smell of Mountain Air away from himself.  
  
He jerked open his door and stumbled outside, trying to get a breath of fresh Sunnydale Air, when he bumped directly into somebody, sending them both toppling to the ground.  
  
"Spike? What are you doing?"  
  
"Huh? Oh- Willow. Sorry." Spike got up off of her and immediately fell again, discovering that his left leg was too entangled with her legs to let him just get up and walk away as if nothing had happened. "Oof!"  
  
"I see those advanced reflexes have done wonders for you." Willow commented as she untangled herself from Spike.  
  
"Yeah, well- say, what're you doing here? Not every night you wander by my place." He stated, getting up and offering his hand to the redhead.  
  
"Oh, I came here to ask you if you knew where I could find some of this stuff for one of my spells. I was about to knock when you came charging out of there like Harmony was following you." She took his hand and he hauled her up to a standing position.  
  
"You were going to knock? Well, that's a first. Uh, yeah, so... come on in." he turned to go inside, waving his hand in a signal for her to follow.  
  
She almost keeled over from the too-strong smell of Lysol.  
  
"Wow! What's with the smell of evil cleanliness?"  
  
"Oh, just, spring cleaning. And- not evil cleanliness. Evil Lysol." He waved the can at her and she nodded. "What did you want help finding, then?"  
  
"Do you know where I can find a Dagger of Hera? There aren't any at The Magic Box and I can't even find one through special order, or even ebay. I need one for this spell t-"  
  
"Dagger of Hera? Those don't exist anymore, Red." Spike reached into his pocket to fish out his carton of cigarettes, instantly feeling let down when he remembered he'd tossed all of them.  
  
"Are you sure they don't exist anymore? I really need one for this spell I'm doing-" she paused when she noticed that Spike wasn't paying attention to her and was looking quite miffed, "Problem?"  
  
"What? No. Just, uh, lost my smokes."  
  
"Well, if you help me find a Dagger, I'll buy you a whole bunch and you can smoke until your undead lungs turn into soot."  
  
Spike had to bite back a groan. "No, that's alright. They've gotta be around here somewhere. Look, if you're really into finding one of those Daggers, even though they don't exist, try calling up this guy. He's pretty knowledgeable in old mystical artifacts, so he might be able to help you."  
  
He scribbled down a phone number and handed it to Willow. She looked at it with a raised brow.  
  
"Thanks. I'll leave you to you, um, cleaning."  
  
"Right. Later, Red."  
  
Willow glanced back at him one last time before she left. Spike closed his eyes briefly and then looked around the room, glad to not be overpowered by Lysol. However, he was not happy to find that he could still pick up the faint scent of smoke.  
  
"Pfft. Go figure."  
  
He groaned again and plopped down on his chair. A sudden urge for a cigarette washed over him and he began to nervously chew his nails. He stood, crossed the room to the bag of goods he'd brought home, and dug out the gum.  
  
He popped a piece in his mouth, chewing slowly as he read the back of the box.  
  
"Blech!" he muttered as the flavor of the gum finally crossed his taste buds.  
  
He spit it out, immediately regretting it when he saw the gum land on his prized jacket. Emitting a very angry sound, he snatched up his jacket and picked the gum off, happy to see it hadn't stuck too badly and wouldn't leave his jacket sticky. He set his jacket down, turned around, and grabbed the box of gum he'd tossed to the floor.  
  
Silently and disgustedly, he took out another piece and began to chew it. Spike scrunched up his face as the flavor sank in again. He tossed the box onto his chair and crossed his arms, face still scrunched up and eyes tightly closed as he chewed.  
  
"The things I do for her..." 


	3. Chapter 3: Gum Popping

A/N: Woohoo! Long chapter! Six pages! I just couldn't resist the idea for this chapter. Oh, and I promise that the title of this story will come into play eventually. It is relevant ;)  
  
Oh, and I don't own Bubbleicious gum.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 3: Gum Popping  
  
Spike spent his next few evenings pacing the graveyard alone, staking the occasional vampire or falling into an open grave. That could get annoying after a while. And as much as he had once enjoyed putting people into their own graves, he had never liked being in them himself- even if it was open. Having to dig yourself out once was enough to scar a guy for life- err, unlife.  
  
He sighed and walked into his crypt, which he had left open for a while in hopes of getting rid of the overpowering smell of Mountain Air. It had receded a little bit, much to his pleasure. But leaving the door had done something that did not pleasure Spike at all- a breeze had covered part of his floor with dirt that had undoubtedly come from the pile of soil sitting next to the open grave he'd fallen in that night- the one in front of his crypt.  
  
Now, Spike had never been one to clean- even in life. His mother had been very clean and he had found no need to clean up anything, as she had did it for him. Drusilla had been fairly clean as well and once again he had found no need to clean anything himself.  
  
So the thought of using a broom didn't immediately come to mind.  
  
He kicked at the dirt a little bit, but it didn't seem to want to leave. He knit his brows and kicked at it some more. The dirt just moved around and seemed to grin up at him mockingly. He knelt down and tried to sweep it out with his hand, to no avail.  
  
"Geez Spike, don't you ever clean?"  
  
He was on his feet in an instant, poised and ready to fight.  
  
"Finally snuck up on you, huh? I'm good." Buffy grinned madly, eyes twinkling in delight.  
  
"Oh, it's you. I was expecting somebody big and toothy. So you really didn't sneak up on me- I just mistook you for a demon, that's all."  
  
"Uh-huh." She eyed the pile at his feet. "Do you collect dirt?"  
  
"What? Oh. No. Just left my door open a bit too long, it seems."  
  
"Do you have a broom? I'm sure that'd be much easier than fanning it out with your hand or kicking it. I was waiting for you to start yelling at it to get out."  
  
"That was my next plan of action, yes." He said sarcastically, nodding. "So what brings you here? Information? Need me to kill something you can't take on yourself? Going to announce your undying love?"  
  
"No, no, and definitely not. Just wanted to see if you were going to patrol."  
  
He shook his head and chuckled. "Slayer, you're a git."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You can't make up your sodding mind about anything, can you? First you're going to kill me, then you're not. You want information, you don't. You want me to protect your family, you want me to stay away from them. You want me to come in, you don't. You don't want my help, but you want me to patrol with you. You think I'm all right, but you hate me. What does a bloke have to do to understand you?"  
  
She blinked at him and he shook his head again. "Never mind."  
  
"Do you want to borrow a broom?"  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"Come on." She motioned for him to follow, which he did, of course, however confused he was. "If Giles doesn't have one at The Magic Shop, I'm sure mom will lend you one."  
  
"I'm not supposed to go near your house, remember?"  
  
"I didn't say you were allowed in. I can hand it to you through the door, go up to my room, and enjoy a Spike-free environment."  
  
"Need I remind you that you were the one who came and bothered me?" he asked as they stepped out onto the street.  
  
She didn't say anything.  
  
~*~  
  
"Do you have anymore gum?" Buffy asked just as they turned the corner that would lead them to the shop.  
  
Spike had forgotten he was even chewing any, which surprised him since the flavor was still burning horribly on his taste buds.  
  
"Err- no."  
  
The Magic Box was quiet when they got there. Not to say that it wasn't full of people, but it was quiet. Xander, Anya, Willow, Tara, and Giles were enthralled with whatever materials they were looking over. Dawn emerged from the back room carrying an amulet of some sort and snapping bubblegum.  
  
Buffy strode into the back room of the shop confidently while Spike hung back at the door. Nobody else present seemed to notice he was there.  
  
He watched Tara begin to blow a large pink bubble. It slowly got bigger and bigger until she had to sit up straight in order to not get it stuck to the pages she was reading. Anya reached forward and popped it, grinning widely and laughing when the gum stuck to Tara's nose.  
  
Xander chuckled and began to blow a purple bubble. Willow looked up from her book to see how big Xander's would get. It popped just before it would have become roughly the same size as Tara's. Willow smiled and worked her own gum around before she too began to blow a bubble.  
  
Spike swallowed and tried to make himself invisible. This could not be happening. There was no way that that oddball thought he'd had back in his crypt was actually happening. If the rest of his little nightmarish thought actually came true he would be stunned and after the embarrassing results that would undoubtedly come after they found out he couldn't pop gum, would probably change his name, move to some other town, and take up fortune telling.  
  
Which didn't sound fun at all. He couldn't really see himself wearing a horrifying outfit and headgear, talking in a wispy voice, operating in a small room littered with tarot cards and candles, looking into a crystal ball.  
  
No. Definitely not.  
  
His curiosity got the better of him and he looked to see how Willow was progressing. Her bubble (which was red) was nearing the size of her head, and seemed to have the potential to grow bigger if Tara hadn't popped it. Spike picked up a book and put it up in front of his face, pretending to read it, all the while sneaking glances over the top of it to see what was going on.  
  
Buffy came out of the back room with a look of determination on her face. She was not carrying a broom, much to his dismay, and stopped to ask Giles where he'd hidden the one he used to sweep the shop each night.  
  
Spike was quite surprised when Giles got up, blowing a medium-sized blue bubble. Once it had popped, he took off his glasses and yawned.  
  
"What do you need it for, Buffy? I daresay that I won't want it back if you use it as a stake."  
  
"No, I just need it to sweep out Spike's crypt."  
  
Xander's eyes snapped up with glittering anticipation. "You killed Spike? Great! I vote for a wild party with a large banner declaring his absence."  
  
Spike cleared his throat. Suddenly all eyes, save Buffy's, were on him. "Better be careful who's around when you talk, Harris."  
  
"You're not dead? Damn."  
  
"That's what I think every single time I see you."  
  
"Stop it, you guys. I'm so not in the mood to listen to you two argue." Buffy stated from behind the counter, where Giles was cautiously handing her the broom.  
  
"Why are you sweeping out Spike's crypt?" he asked, cleaning his glasses.  
  
"Because he doesn't believe in cleaning and it's getting difficult to barge in there and kick his ass with all that dirt blocking the doorway."  
  
Everyone seemed to take this as a reasonable explanation.  
  
Dawn snapped her gum rather loudly and everyone looked at her. She began to blow an orange bubble that was slowly getting bigger. It grew until it was just a little bit larger than her head, nearly transparent because it was so thin. It popped, leaving her face covered in orange stickiness.  
  
"Dawn wins this round, but the war is far from over." Xander commented before looking back to his book. "Unless Buffy or, like this would ever happen, Spike, can beat her."  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Worth a shot. Pass me some gum."  
  
Tara reached into her bag and pulled out a large pack of Cotton Candy flavored Bubbleicious. She tossed a piece to Buffy, who caught it with great ease. She turned to Spike, an unsure look on her face, and tossed him some.  
  
"Uh, no. See, I don't-" Spike began.  
  
"Aw, is poor wittle Spikey scared?" Xander taunted.  
  
"No. I'd just rather not look as embarrassing as you do, what with that bit of gum in your eyebrow." He retorted.  
  
Xander ran his fingers over his eyebrows quickly before narrowing his eyes at Spike. "Chicken?"  
  
"N-"  
  
"Then go ahead."  
  
"I've nothing to prove to you."  
  
Buffy shushed them, concentrating heavily on blowing her bubble. It was a purply color and a little bit gritty since she hadn't been chewing the gum long. It was for this reason that it didn't get very big. She shrugged and began chewing again.  
  
"Well, gotta go. Good luck with the research. Oh, and Dawn?" she turned to her sister, "Willow and Tara are going to take you back to the house. I'll be back by two, alright?"  
  
Dawn nodded solemnly. Buffy, carrying the broom, crossed the room, opened the door, and nodded her head for Spike to follow. He put the book back in its place, fixed Xander with a horrible glare (which was returned), and followed her out into the street.  
  
"What was that all about?" she asked quite suddenly.  
  
"What?" he folded his arms over his chest and continued to follow her back to the graveyard.  
  
"You and Xander. I mean, usually you guys are all arguey, but- over gum?" she slowed her pace a little so that she walked beside him.  
  
"Yeah, over gum. He's a ponce."  
  
"You argued back... why wouldn't you blow a bubble?"  
  
Spike lifted a scarred brow. "Buffy. I don't do those things."  
  
She stopped on the corner of Main Street and Tracy Street, waiting for all the traffic to go by before they crossed the street. "Why not?"  
  
"What do you mean 'why not'? I'm a vampire. I don't pop gum."  
  
"Whatever. But if I didn't know better, I'd say you were scared."  
  
He dropped his arms to his side and let his eyes show a little bit of anger. "Scared? Me?" he shook his head. "I'm not scared of anything."  
  
"Then why won't-"  
  
He sighed heavily. "Swear you won't tell?"  
  
Buffy nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Girl Scout's Honor."  
  
He sighed again and braced himself. "Because... because I don't know how."  
  
She burst out laughing just as the crosswalk lights told them it was safe to cross. Spike stepped down onto the pavement, half-embarrassed and half- angry. Buffy put her hand on his leather-clad shoulder for support as she walked beside him, laughing hysterically.  
  
"It's not that funny." He said.  
  
"Yeah it is! You, Spike, can't even blow a bubble in your gum? Mr. I'm-So- Mighty-Because-I'm-A-Vampire can't even pop his gum!" this sent her into another wave of laughter.  
  
He stopped just as they stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the very drugstore he'd bought all of his anti smoking supplies. "Yeah. That's right. I don't know how. Never found any use for it."  
  
"Never found any use for it? It's fun. That's its use."  
  
"Fun? Blowing air into a sticky substance until it pops and gets all over your face is fun?" he inquired skeptically, crossing his arms again.  
  
She nodded. "Yep."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"I'll show you."  
  
"Wh-?"  
  
Before he could finish his question, she'd grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him toward the graveyard.  
  
~*~  
  
"Okay, so, first of all- spit out that gum." Buffy instructed, sitting next to Spike on top of his crypt, broom leaning against the doorway below them.  
  
"What? Don't I need gum to pop it?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. But that's the wrong kind of gum. Use the stuff Tara gave you. It's easier to learn with- stretchier and all that."  
  
He sighed and spit out his gum. "You know what you're doing."  
  
Spike dug into his coat pocket and pulled out the now slightly smashed piece of gum Tara had tossed to him in The Magic Box. He unwrapped it and put it in his mouth, stuffing the wrapper back in his pocket. He began to chew.  
  
"You have to chew it for a little while before it's good enough." She said, leaning back on her hands to look up at the stars while she waited.  
  
"How do I know what it's good enough?"  
  
"There's no more sugar granules in it. Is that Polaris? I can never tell." She pointed to a brilliant star, nudging Spike with her other elbow.  
  
"Oh, uh..." he looked up, brows knit in thought, "yeah. I think so. Think my gum's all chewed up too."  
  
"Alright. So, move the gum right behind your teeth and part them just enough for you to stick your tongue through. Like this." She followed her own instructions and looked toward him.  
  
He copied her actions, having a little bit of difficulty. She stuck her tongue through her teeth, letting the gum form a thin coating around it. He tried to the do the same, but had to make a few attempts before he got it right. She blew, letting the gum form a bubble.  
  
He tried but accidentally spit his gum onto his right pant leg. Buffy laughed heartily as he picked it up and put it back in his mouth. He repeated all of the steps up until the blowing part. Slowly and cautiously, he blew into the gum.  
  
It began to form a small bubble, which popped almost immediately. Buffy clapped a little bit and Spike chuckled. She stuck her tongue out to blow another bubble.  
  
"You have a cute tongue, Slayer." Spike grinned.  
  
She rolled her eyes and continued on with her bubble blowing. Spike practiced, leaning back on his elbows and watching her out of the corner of his eye. This was one of the few times she didn't notice- not that he cared. She was very cute, sitting there blowing bubbles and studying the stars.  
  
A few minutes later, she broke the silence. "We ought to go sweep out your crypt. It's 1:45."  
  
She hopped down before he could protest, so he followed. She snatched up the broom and moved inside. She swept some of the dirt out the door as an example before she handed the cleaning utensil to him. She began to laugh again.  
  
He looked very weird. A punk-rocker vampire with bleach blond hair, all black clothing, and a leather duster. Standing there. With a broom. Too funny.  
  
"Bring the broom back as soon as you're done." Having stopped laughing, she left. She needed to get home before two- before the others started worrying about her.  
  
Spike leaned on the broom handle and smiled to himself. Even if he'd ended up cleaning out his crypt with a nancy-boy broom, it was worth it. She'd spent an evening with him, despite her loathing, teaching him how to pop gum.  
  
He was still chewing it, thinking perhaps he'd never stop. He knew he had to eventually, of course, but he wanted to savor the flavor of that gum until it was gone, leaving him only with the memories of that night.  
  
He swept the rest of the dirt out and spent the rest of the night grinning and chewing his gum. 


	4. Chapter 4: Spike Has Some Issues At the ...

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for so long! School's crazy!  
  
I'm so shocked by how many reviews this story is getting! Not that this is a bad thing, of course...  
  
Oh, and a note to the reviewer who pointed out that I am obviously not an ex-smoker: Sorry I forgot your name. You're right- I've never had a cigarette in my life. The smell of smoke makes me ill. Anyway, I didn't know that you had to have a prescription for any anti-smoking stuff. I was just going by the movie "Meet the Parents". Ben Stiller goes into a drug store and buys some of the gum without a prescription or anything, so I just assumed... Sorry about that. I'm doing my best.  
  
ACTION!  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 4: Spike Has Some Issues At the Bronze  
  
"You were everything I wanted  
  
But I just can't finish what I started  
  
There's no room left here on my back  
  
It was damaged long ago  
  
Though you swear that you are true  
  
I'd still pick my friends over you  
  
My friends over you!"  
  
The crowd of The Bronze sang along, quite loudly, as "My Friends Over You" by New Found Glory pounded through the room courtesy of the new jukebox. Bands that had been playing The Bronze lately had all been booked out of town for the night, but nobody seemed to mind.  
  
"Can't believe kids call this punk." Spike muttered to himself as he sat on the arm of a couch near the pool tables. "Giving me a bloody headache."  
  
"So, Evil Undead, talk to yourself often?"  
  
He didn't even have to turn to know who was there. "Shut it, Harris."  
  
"I should have known. After all, you're the kidnap-a-girl-and-try-to-force- her-to-admit-love-or-turn-a-crazy-vampire-woman-on-her kind of guy. Why wouldn't you talk to yourself?" Xander observed in the tone he usually used when talking to Spike, leaning on a pool stick with his ankles crossed.  
  
Spike turned his head just enough to see Xander and sneered. Though the Whelp wasn't looking at him, Spike almost felt as if he was being watched. Breaking his train of thought (which heavily revolved around Alexander LaVelle Harris and a railroad spike), he looked around the room and breathed in-- an attempt to smell for anything evil-related.  
  
But instead he breathed in the scent of nicotine. Somebody in here was smoking.  
  
Damn them.  
  
He moved his eyes over the crowd again but saw nobody with a cigarette. Deciding that the person was obviously up on the second level of The Bronze, he leaned back on the couch and cast his gaze up toward the balcony. There he spied a young woman with a thin white cigarette (a Light of some sort, he scoffed) in her fingers, glowing lightly at the tip.  
  
"In all seriousness, Spike, what were you thinking? Spike?" Xander uncrossed his feet and turned to look for Spike, who was no longer sitting on the arm of the couch. "Where'd...?"  
  
Xander shrugged and returned to the pool table he'd been watching over whilst waiting for Willow to return from the restroom and challenge him. The redheaded witch was back and glancing around for her lifelong friend. Seeing him approach, she set up the billiard balls in the triangle and proclaimed that she would break.  
  
Meanwhile, Spike had gone up the stairs and was staring at the evil girl with the cigarette disgustedly. How could she even think about doing this? There were impressionable young teenagers everywhere in this particular building. Smoking was prohibited here- or, at least, the rather rude waitress that picked up empty glasses told him that once (he'd proceeded to blow smoke in her face and gotten kicked out for the night). Didn't she know she was a health hazard to herself and everyone around her? Didn't she know that second hand smoke could cause health problems for others?  
  
Didn't she know that there were vampires who were trying to quit smoking wandering around and, sans stupid government chips in their skulls, were feeling the particular need to maim?  
  
Spike narrowed his icy blue eyes and made his way over to the girl, attempting to fight off the aching need for a smoke... and to crush the girl's throat. He took in an unnecessary breath, immediately regretting it when he got a lungful of mentholated smoke. He tapped her on the shoulder and waited for her to turn around.  
  
She was nearly as tall as he was, with auburn hair that waved halfway down her back. She had dull, watery blue eyes and was still chuckling from a joke one of her friends had apparently just told her.  
  
"What?"  
  
His fists clenched at the question and he spoke through gritted teeth. Despite his anger, he decided being polite was the best way to go. "Would you mind putting out your cigarette? The smoke is bothering me."  
  
"Too bad, Sid." She snapped before taking a long drag off of her cigarette and blowing it in his face.  
  
He closed his eyes to shield them. Once the onslaught of smoke was gone, he opened them and knew from the look on the girl's face that he looked particularly menacing. He fought back the need to choke the girl and instead settled for, in his opinion, the most dangerous voice he'd ever used.  
  
"You shouldn't have done that."  
  
The girl looked as though she agreed. She was backing away slowly and her two male friends didn't look inclined to start anything with the vampire. Spike expected they were well aware of his non-humanness as he'd felt his eyes temporarily burn yellow.  
  
And suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder.  
  
He snapped his attention to the hand and looked it over briefly. It was graceful and womanly, with long, thin fingers that were digging into his jacket slightly. The fingernails were painted a shimmering peach color that danced in the lights of the club. He knew this hand.  
  
Buffy.  
  
He turned to face her, feeling all of his rage disappear. She was smiling in an overly friendly manner, but not at him- at the woman who had been smoking. Spike looked back at the woman and glared, grinning inside when he watched her flinch. Buffy tugged at his shoulder then, leading him away-but not before he flashed the woman a backwards peace sign that she obviously didn't know the meaning of.  
  
"What were you doing?" She demanded when she pushed him onto a couch.  
  
"Nothing." He retorted too quickly for Buffy's liking.  
  
"Nothing? You looked murderous!"  
  
"Looking murderous and being murderous are two different things." He pointed out, though he almost felt he shouldn't have after he did. "I mean- "  
  
"Shut up, Spike."  
  
He felt his temper flare up again. "What crawled up your arse and died?"  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"You heard me."  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Spike lifted a scarred brow and gave her a skeptical look. "Nothing? You just come and verbally assault vampires you hung out with the night before for no reason?"  
  
Buffy worked her jaw but said nothing. She uncrossed her arms and ran her hands through her hair. She plopped down next to the bleached night-dweller and sighed.  
  
"It's Glory. I've been worried..."  
  
He gave her a look. "Worried? Buffy, you've beaten every Big Bad that ever waltzed into town, myself included, and you're worried about a fashion victim whose only apparent super powers are strength and brain-sucking?"  
  
"It's different this time." She replied. "She's so strong... she could probably beat the crap out of me with one arm."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"Oh really? Tell her that."  
  
Spike shook his head and looked over toward the girl who had been smoking earlier. She'd put out her cigarette and was eyeing him nervously. He narrowed his eyes at her once more and smirked when she practically ran down the stairs and out the front doors.  
  
"You know what you need?" he asked, watching the front door close.  
  
"A new mission in life?"  
  
He looked at her, still smirking, and shook his head slightly. "No. A little bit of fun."  
  
~*~  
  
"Spike, what are we doing here?"  
  
"Shh!"  
  
The Slayer and the punk rock vampire stood on a stone bridge that crossed over the river that ran through the woods near Sunnydale. Buffy had her arms crossed over her chest and looked as though she'd rather be anywhere but standing on a bridge with Spike. Spike, on the other hand, was looking over the side of the bridge as if searching for something he'd dropped.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
Spike straightened up and bit his lower lip in thought for only a moment prior to grinning at Buffy and whispering a question to her. "Have you ever seen a water fairy?"  
  
She knit her brows at him. "What?"  
  
"Have you ever seen a water fairy?" he repeated, slightly agitated but still whispering.  
  
Buffy, unsure what was going on, shook her head. She watched him, confused, as he leant over the edge of the bridge again. After a few seconds, he beckoned her to join him. She approached cautiously, arms still crossed and neck craned in an attempt to see what Spike was up to.  
  
When she was directly next to him, he glanced up from the water just long enough to motion his head for her to look at the water below. She started to ask him what she was supposed to be looking for, but he silenced her with a finger at his lips. He motioned to the water again and Buffy felt herself lean forward to see what had Spike so quiet and fixated.  
  
She didn't see them at first, but once she'd really started to look rather than zoom over the scenery, she noticed that the river wasn't the only thing moving beneath the bridge.  
  
Tiny little winged humanoid creatures, glittering a thousand colors at once in the moonlight, were flitting over the tiny waves. Occasionally they touched down, but were so light that they didn't sink. Buffy particularly liked watching one that was mostly blue, standing on a rock, straightening its hair and looking at its reflection in a still puddle. She glanced toward Spike momentarily and noticed he was watching a green and yellow winged fairy that was dancing across the water with a grace Buffy had never seen before.  
  
A red and orange fairy fluttered toward Buffy, reminding her of a shy yet curious butterfly. It came within a foot of her face, and stared at her as though it had never seen anything quite like Buffy before. The fairy was a gorgeous little woman that glowed ever so faintly in the dark. She had bright blue eyes and curly auburn hair- she almost looked like a girl Buffy had gone to school with.  
  
Another fairy flew up to the red and orange one, only it was male. He had bright blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, with shiny aquamarine wings. He grasped the female fairy by the hand and nodded politely toward Buffy. She smiled, which must have been what the fairy wanted, as he flew off with his companion in tow.  
  
She continued to watch them until they landed on the water. Assuming a ballroom dancing stance, the two danced across the water. Buffy was sure she saw their heads lean in and touch lips, and she sighed the sigh of a girl watching a romance unfold.  
  
"You alright?"  
  
Buffy jumped at his voice- she'd forgotten Spike was even there. Once she'd recovered, she answered. "Yeah."  
  
"Didn't mean to scare you." He whispered, his Cockney accent not as harsh as usual.  
  
She looked back toward the water and with the slightest hint of a grin, replied, "It's alright." 


End file.
